


tempting the Son of God in three simple steps with anthony janthony crowley

by annapotterkiku, honeyedgold



Series: silly philosophy with anthony janthony crowley and aziraphale ziraphale fell (and other related persons) [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Bible, Bible Quotes, Canon Compliant, Christianity, Conversations, Destiny, Existential Angst, Existential Crisis, Fate & Destiny, Gen, M/M, Mentioned Aziraphale (Good Omens), Other, Predestination, Religious Content, Religious Humor, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 14:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20259493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annapotterkiku/pseuds/annapotterkiku, https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyedgold/pseuds/honeyedgold
Summary: "Did you, uh, ever meet him?""Yes. Seemed a very bright young man. I showed him all the kingdoms of the world.""Why?""He’s a carpenter from Galilee. His travel opportunities are limited.”------------------This is a story about a demon that overslept and made the Son of Man wait for him 40 nights and 40 days. It’s more commonly known as “The Gospel of Matthew, chapter Four: The Temptation of Jesus in the Wilderness”.





	tempting the Son of God in three simple steps with anthony janthony crowley

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [cám dỗ Con Trai Đức Chúa Trời bằng ba bước đơn giản cùng với anthony janthony crowley](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19448881) by [annapotterkiku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annapotterkiku/pseuds/annapotterkiku). 

> AUTHOR’S NOTES:  
i have ascended to a new height that is to write fic about our lord and savior jesus christ amen,,,,,,, (@god this is on you)
> 
> Some motherchucking notes:  
1) this is a Crowley-centric fic but has hints of Ineffable Husbands (there’s no Crowley/J*sus my tastes ain’t that hardcore,,,,)  
2) all of the characters here belong to Good Omens and is not meant to poke fun at any person or entity or organization  
3) i know i am made of sin :(  
4) this was meant to be a funny fic but that took a turn real quick,,,,,,,  
5) i should replace all of the english names (except Crowley’s) with the vietnamese transliterations for the vibe of the VN gospel but let’s not :) let me die tonight :)  
6) of course this is not beta-ed so don’t complain if it’s bad =))))))))  
7) i am a christian and i have the right to legally write this fic :)
> 
> TRANSLATOR’S NOTE:  
I, on the other hand, am some sort of pagan, with a healthy level of respect for other religions. Therefore, I have the right to legally bring this exceedingly enjoyable work of fiction to the English-speaking fandom. 
> 
> This translation has not been beta-ed. Or Britpicked. Or Bible-picked, for that matter. Corrections are very welcome.

_ "Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil." - Matthew 4:1, King James’ Version. _

#NotToCauseDramaBut Crowley had always thought the Books were hot-pots of propaganda from Upstairs meant to demean and taunt him. There were too many important details that weren’t mentioned (Genesis 3:1-7 - Let’s not pretend he was the only one curious about the taste of the Forbidden Fruit. Something like this definitely takes two to tango), and too much embellishment (Genesis 19:4-8 - ALL OF the men except for Lot wanted to lie with both of the angels? Really? Stop fantasizing, Sandalphon). However, there was one truth in chapter 4 of the Gospel of Matthew which Crowley would never admit to being grateful that the editor didn’t include. The truth was this: on the day he was to tempt Jesus, Crowley had overslept. 

(Crowley had just discovered what sleep was, and in the 40 degrees Celsius weather plus the dry and dusty wind… well… he was just a simple serpent. His kind likes to lie deep in the sand and slumber for one… or two… or 40 days.)

In any case, Crowley was there barely on time - the young man was still gasping for air. He felt a little bit guilty for letting a kid, just shy of twenty years old, wait for 40 entire days in the wilderness with nothing but the strength of faith and prayers, and because he was Crowley, he slithered up to the young man’s feet and blurted out: "Hey, why don’t you turn some rocks into something to snack on? Didn’t the Old Woman give you any powers?"

Despite the gnawing hunger, Jesus frowned and told him: "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God."

_ Wow, he’s got it memorized  _ \- Crowley thought. He was about to say he was concerned for the boy’s state, then Crowley remembered he was a demon and 1) no one is mad enough to believe a demon and 2) demons aren’t allowed to be “concerned”. 

So, instead of defending himself, Crowley shoveled about 666 shades of sarcasm into his answer: "Oh, OK, great. Congrats, you’ve passed the entrance round."

Jesus ignored him. How charming. 

Crowley, too, ignored him. He was ransacking every corner of his snake brain to find the tutorial for tempting the Son of God that had been transmitted into his head more than 40 days ago. It had three simple steps, but he remembered nothing outside of the fact that it had three steps. 

Crowley froze time. Then he panicked. 

“Fuck fuck fuck O infernal Lilith please protect me through this tribulation.” He prayed. “Oh Go- oh please _ someone _ take pity on me and smite me dead before Below finds out.”

He pleaded and pleaded, but of course no one answered, because regardless of whether it’s Heaven or Hell, upper management is still upper management. No one cares about the underlings. 

Crowley quickly changed into human form so that he could put an arm across his forehead and ponder. He could call Aziraphale for help (why he wanted to call only Aziraphale, Crowley wasn’t sure at the time). He could zip off to the moon and hide until everything had settled down and Heaven and Hell had stopped hunting for him. Or he can just one-shot that young man and be done with it, he was meant to die anyway, right...? 

Luckily, his 4000 years of experience being Earth’s gofer finally kicked in, and he realized something. 

Hell doesn’t care. 

Hell doesn’t give a rat’s arse about how he works, so long as things are done. Per that logic, Crowley being late for a whopping 40 days or forgetting how to tempt the Son was no longer important. No one peers at the results or checks the paperwork. So long as he tempted Jesus three times. 

Suddenly, Crowley loved that dysfunctional workplace so much. 

(Crowley was too happy to spare a neuron to fear that the three temptations, theoretically, should be as good as the three lines in the tutorial in order to successfully sway the Son of God. But Hastur had written it down and God had spoken, so the final result amounted to the same thing.)

“Let’s see…” Crowley wondered. He wasn’t sure what the youths of the day liked. He racked his brain, running through a checklist of man’s vices great and small. Liquor? No, he could make his own. Women? Didn’t seem to suit his tastes. Wrath. Pride. Sloth. Greed. 

Crowley suddenly asked himself whether the Son of Man was anything like Them.

He snapped his fingers. Jesus was still there, ignoring him.

“Hey, young man,” Crowley took him by the arm and beamed, his grin stretching from one ear to the other. “Are you really the Son of the Almighty?”

They were standing on top of the Temple.

“Tall, eh?” Crowley was still grinning. “I haven’t seen such a great view since I was on Mount Sinai taking a peek at Moses fetching the tablets.”

Jesus said nothing. He silently gazed out at the sights of the city. 

The fallen part of Crowley suddenly thought of Aziraphale hastily diving down to catch a free-falling Jesus like a giant fireball (why he thought of Aziraphale instead of any other angel, he didn’t know at the time). He was struck with an urge to snap his fingers and see what would happen. But then, Crowley’s brain started working for the second time that day. 

“Tell me, Jesus of Nazareth. If you’re really the Son of God, why don’t you cast yourself down? Isn’t it in the Bible that angels would bear you up?” Crowley put his best  _ special temptation  _ expression and tone on display.

(He wasn’t actually sure whether that was written in the Bible, but he was pretty sure Upstairs wouldn’t let the Son of Man die anticlimactically. At least Aziraphale wouldn’t.)

“It is written again, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." Jesus answered immediately, not even bothering to spare him a glance.

Really, Crowley felt a little hurt by Jesus’ frightening apathy. Seriously. What kind of man was he, that he couldn’t spare two coins of kindness? Still, he thought the boy wasn’t all that bad, even a little wiser than he ought to be (Apathetic because he’s old for his age? Or maybe he belongs Upstairs and has the gene for “unfeeling loyalty” so common up there?). So, Crowley didn’t grouse. He stood a few paces behind Jesus, quietly taking in the scenery of the distant streets. 

(Later, long after the boy was dead and Crowley had dealt with some more angels, he would suddenly realize, via an emotional wound larger than the one before, that apathy is the only courtesy Heaven can give a creature like him.)

Crowley liked people who were similar to him: curious, learned, and with a tendency to do things that were just slightly this side of wrong. He also liked to satisfy curiosities, whether it’s his or someone else’s. 

"Hey, kid. Want to go around the world?" He asked.

The young man finally turned to look at him. "...Speakest thou to me?"

"Yeah, why not? You seem rather bright." He stepped forward and took Jesus’s hand before he could protest. "Let’s take a walk and see.” 

And then he showed Jesus all the kingdoms of the world. Heavenly people may be good at hiding emotions, but Jesus back then was just a barely-20-year-old young man living in the Middle East. He reacted exactly as a carpenter from Nazareth with limited travel options should react. 

They were standing in the Garden of Babylon when Crowley, because he was Crowley, wondered aloud. "Dunno what you think, but I think this whole  _ sacrifice the Lamb to redeem humanity _ thing is really ridiculous."

That idle thought made Jesus turn and look, but temptation was the furthest thing from Crowley’s mind in that moment. "I mean, if He is so forgiving, why not just forgive humanity right off the bat? Why go to all the trouble of setting this up, and getting you into it, so that you have to..."

Crowley hesitated. He wasn’t sure whether the young man knew about his fate, and he wasn’t sure whether he would be punished if he accidentally spilled the greatest plot twist Heaven had cooked up (Spoiler alert: Yes, he would. Crowley would be getting a slap right in the mouth from each of the Virtues in existence if he had slipped up.)

"The reasons of my Father are His own." Jesus told him, simply. "All are encompassed -"

"-within the Great Plan." Crowley finished with a grimace. Those two words  _ G. P.,  _ once again. "Yadda, yadda, yadda. But you really don’t have an opinion on this? No dreams or wishes at all?"

"Mine opinions are His. My dreams are His. The life which I have been given, I have accepted since my birth.”

_ Blindly, _ Crowley sniffed contemptuously. (He didn’t even understand why he was getting so angry. This was supposed to be a simple three-step plan.)

"I bet you’d think differently, once you knew the -"

Truth. Crowley’s human heart twinged in a funny way. Truth was not one of the Seven Deadly Sins, but it was the most dangerous one. So many sovereigns burned in hellfire for it. So many kingdoms fell to ruin, so many had it all and lost it all, for the allure of that one word, “truth”. Even those who were once mighty angels had to kneel at the feet of Truth, pledge their devotion to it, their willingness to fight and fall for it… 

Jesus may be the Son of Man, but he was also a dirt-poor boy with an undefined future. Would he want to know that the people he trusted would nail him to the Cross? 

Jesus looked at Crowley, their gazes touching. Black irises shone with an unfathomable emotion. 

“I believe in one Truth, and the only Truth is the Lord." He said. "Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve."

In this life there would only be three times that Crowley was so impressed, his pupils wanted to widen. The first time was when he learned Aziraphale gave away the burning sword. The second time was this. (The third had yet to happen.) 

As he was leaving the desert, Crowley heard the fluttering of wings from the little angels ministering to the young Redeemer. Joyful laughter filled the wilderness. Crowley suddenly felt a twinge, but he didn’t understand why. Is it pity for a life born to be nothing but a sacrifice? Jealousy of the faith from an earthly creature? Crowley wondered, had the Almighty been there for him back then, his Way and his Truth, would he have wanted to pursue another truth? Maybe, and Crowley is willing to bet that this is the real Truth: he had never been granted faith, and everything, all of it, including the moment that he fell into hellfire, is all part of the blasted Great Plan. 

(He suddenly thought of Aziraphale and his everlasting tune of “believe in Her”. How easy loving God is when you were chosen to be part of Heaven.)

Burying himself deep into the sand, Crowley tried hard to think of how he would spin this in the report. Angelic laughter faded away, replaced by darkness and searing heat. In his mind, the young man’s word still lingered.

**Author's Note:**

> Raise your hand if you read the author's notes in Crowley's voice, and the translator's notes in Aziraphale's voice. If not, feel free to do so. ;) Would make it a ton funnier. (Or not. It's funny to me.)


End file.
